I can feel the first cold of the season trying to settle in.

Last night came the first hints of congestion, and this morning it is blossoming, accompanied by the occasional scratchy throat. My helpful mate suggested via e-mail that I turn to a couple of medications that are in our bathroom, not at my office, so it’s herb tea for now.

We are stocked at home with medicine and soup, so except for the dirty dishes keeping me from hitting the couch immediately, I can’t complain much. My wishes are simple, like, “Please can I sleep in my own bed instead of being so blocked I only can rest propped up on the couch?” And if I can whack it hard enough fast enough, it might not be bad at all.

That’s the theory, anyway. What I DON’T want is what happened to a healthy guy we know from hockey, a longtime youth coach who also plays in the adult league. He got nailed by a flu strain going around and vomited for nine straight hours, until his son and mother dragged him into a car and took to him to the hospital, where he spent 12 hours on IVs.

Drink your fluids, kids. Need that reserve.

This post originally appeared on ourMidland.com, the online home of the Midland (MI) Daily News. Republished with permission.